


Matutinal

by asphodellae



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Getting Together, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Pining Miya Atsumu, Pining Sakusa Kiyoomi, Sleepovers, Soft Miya Atsumu, Soft Sakusa Kiyoomi, waking up together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27934486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asphodellae/pseuds/asphodellae
Summary: 'Matutinal':of, relating to, or occurring in the morning
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 24
Kudos: 383





	Matutinal

Sakusa Kiyoomi wakes up in the arms of another. Glistening ivory filters in through diaphanous white curtains that are not his own, pale skin awash with a seraphic glow that the Renaissance artists of old yearned to capture and never did. His limbs weigh heavy and the desire to stay still extends even to the soft curls splayed out upon the pillow under him, an inky black mockery of a halo upon the parchment colored sheets. Here he is, in all his glory: a wax man.

But _oh_ , how he _lives_.

The arms that lay wrapped around him are a different kind of divine. Miya Atsumu radiates heat—it flows off of the man in waves. Perhaps, Kiyoomi thinks sleepily, he is the sun incarnate: Atsumu is gentle warmth and the light that reaches even the moon, giving sight to weary midnight travelers. If Kiyoomi were to go blind the next day, Atsumu could lead him home just by the blessing of touch alone. This thought haunts him, and in slumber, he is a mere spectator, cursed—blessed—and frozen in place as Kiyoomi’s heart slowly allows this sunlight man to stream in like the dawn and _melt him, melt him, melt him_.

“Miya?” Kiyoomi tries.

Kiyoomi is greeted by silence, save for the whisper of skin against cotton as lazy arms tighten around him by a fraction. His eyelids flutter closed of their own volition, eyelashes casting long shadows that brush hushedly over Kiyoomi’s cheeks, every part of him content to fall right back into a dreamless sleep. Kiyoomi wiggles further into Atsumu’s embrace, savoring the feeling. Being held by Atsumu is like when the sun steps out from behind the clouds on a winter day. Any hint of chill dissipates now, under a sun so tender as this. Kiyoomi cannot help but relish in Atsumu’s warmth. Atsumu, Atsumu, Atsumu.

Floating in the blissful freefall towards sleep, Kiyoomi thinks—perhaps it is more truthful to say that he _dreams_ —of the night previous, of how they both ended up here.

* * *

“Omi-Omi!”

“No, Miya. And frankly, I think you’re insane for asking.”

“Omi, just call me Atsumu! I keep telling you—”

Practice hasn’t even begun, but Kiyoomi already has a headache because of Miya Atsumu. Dark emerald eyes fix on chocolate brown, and spiker and setter settle into a staring contest full of unspoken conversation.

“Oh, come on, Omi, why don’t you think it over at least for a little while?” A gentle, fleeting glance combs over the wisps of Kiyoomi’s eyelashes. _Give me a chance?_

Kiyoomi raises a single eyebrow, facial muscles far too accustomed to performing this action already. _What do you need the chance for?_

“You said you wanted to find out what it felt like, and I think you don’t _really_ seem to despise my presence...?” Atsumu’s eyes trace where Kiyoomi’s mask meets the skin of his cheek, and Kiyoomi feels his skin warm under the attention. _Did I read you wrong, Omi-Omi?_

Kiyoomi blinks slowly. _No. But I hate to admit it._

“It’s just cuddling! No homo necessary!”

Somewhere in Kiyoomi’s brain, a voice chimes in. It sounds suspiciously like his cousin Komori, a smile audible in its tittering tone. _Yes, homo necessary._ Kiyoomi sincerely wants to tell the voice in his head to fuck off.

“Okay, I’ll think about it."

Whatever Eldritch chaos occurs in Atsumu’s brain on a daily basis is a mystery to poor Kiyoomi. Especially now, as Atsumu opens this front door to welcome him in. The apartment complex that the members of MSBY inhabit isn’t cheap by any means, but the lights and his mood combine to paint the backlit Atsumu that occupies his vision with the same absence of light that horror movies use for serial killers. Fitting, because this decision is almost mortifying enough to knock him dead.

Kiyoomi shuffles in his place, shifting the backpack slung over his right shoulder that is filled with his overnight supplies. Toothbrush, toothpaste, pajamas, change of clothes, shower supplies… Kiyoomi doesn’t actually know what people bring to sleepovers. His nose scrunches up, partly out of concern and partly out of a blend of lukewarm shame and grating envy. This sleepover with Atsumu is his first-ever.

“Jeez, Omi, you don’t have to look at me like I ran over your dog. If you want to back out, you can.”

Kiyoomi blinks at him slowly. He lets his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks for half a second before lifting his gaze to see Atsumu seemingly entranced, staring at him in awe. Kiyoomi, unwilling to dwell upon the implications of the look Atsumu is giving him, clears his throat and gestures at the door.

“Let me in before I change my mind.”

Having two nighttime routines in one space doesn’t jar Kiyoomi as much as he thought it would. Perhaps it’s because Atsumu makes space for him as he tries to be a good host. There’s a softer tint to the color of Atsumu’s smiles, and it coats his words as he demonstrates how to fit both of them into one mirror as they brush their teeth together. Kiyoomi doesn’t know what’s in the air, but it takes the edge out of his words as he grumbles at Atsumu to _please don’t talk with toothpaste in your mouth_. Atsumu smirks at him somehow through the toothpaste, but the twinge of annoyance and the thrumming undercurrent of _what the fuck is going on_ is accompanied—offset, even—by something else just as warm blooming in his chest.

Atsumu digs out an extra blanket from his linen closet at Kiyoomi’s request. Apparently, the taller man’s body always runs cold. Kiyoomi has half the mind to smother him in his sleep as Atsumu walks back into his bedroom looking like the cat that caught the canary. He looks disgustingly pleased with himself. Kiyoomi needs to put a stop to it. At this rate, it’s going to be bad for his heart in a good way, not that he’ll admit it.

“Go to sleep faster, Miya,” Kiyoomi says as Atsumu drapes the new blanket over him, “I want to sleep in and I refuse to let you take that away from me.”

“Oh, fine. Scoot over, I’ll take that spot,” Atsumu replies, intending to be the big spoon, to hold Kiyoomi in his arms.

Kiyoomi resettles on the farthest edge of the bed, prompting Atsumu to pout.

“Omiiii,” Atsumu whines, making grabby hands at the other man, “I’m cold…”

“Oh, for the love of—” Kiyoomi concedes. Slowly, Kiyoomi feels the tension leave his body as he scoots backward, nestling into the blankets. Atsumu shifts, and suddenly they’re pressed together, body heat mingling and settling at a heady temperature that pulls at Kiyoomi’s eyelids. The warmth soothes him in waves, and Kiyoomi floats, weightless, tethered to reality by the weight of Atsumu behind him.

...It’s so comfortable, what the hell. Immediately, Kiyoomi feels sleep tugging at him, coaxing his eyes closed. Atsumu’s arms around him give him the same sense of security that a weighted blanket would normally bring. Kiyoomi lets his eyes flutter shut, falling asleep before he can think about the decision he just made and what it’s going to have to mean for their relationship moving forward.

* * *

Which brings them to the morning.

Atsumu awakens with a low, sleepy hum. Kiyoomi turns around, slipping out of the other man’s hold to watch the veil of sleep slowly fall away from him. Like this, Atsumu looks touched by Midas, and Kiyoomi basks in the light that bounces off of him, content in remaining where he is. His gaze traverses Atsumu’s edges, given honeyed grace by the sun’s illumination, and his heart squeezes at the sight. And therein lies the non-issue that Kiyoomi had been saving for himself since yesterday. Why does his heart do that?

Kiyoomi can’t recall how he had developed feelings for Atsumu.

Thinking back, it hadn’t been any specific day or a sudden realization. There had been no heart-stopping, earth-shattering moment in which he’d realized that, _oh shit, I have feelings for him_. Instead, Kiyoomi had just… _noticed_. It’s like how the sun shines differently when the seasons change—it’s only at the height of the new season that people realize that it’s different from before. It had already been too late for Kiyoomi to stop himself. At some point, the light in his heart had begun to shine differently, and it was because of Miya Atsumu— _for_ him.

When he had first become aware of this development, Kiyoomi had been content to indulge himself from afar. However, Atsumu is a force all his own, so powerful in his existence that Kiyoomi had been drawn into his orbit almost immediately. Practicing together and going home separately shifted and spun into getting groceries together, a seat at Atsumu’s dinner table, and then a seat at his own, each occurrence accompanied with Atsumu’s cheerful assurance of his cleanliness. Now, Kiyoomi has no doubt about it. Atsumu on the court is plenty used to bending over backward for his hitters. It makes sense that he’s able and willing to change bits and pieces of his daily routine for Kiyoomi. The realization, when Kiyoomi had first had it, had been so intensely endearing that Kiyoomi had wanted to confess right there in the locker room, as Atsumu had been wiping down his locker after using it that day. But looking at Atsumu now, glowing and pleased at a successful _sleepover with Kiyoomi_ of all things, Kiyoomi figures that now is as good of a time as any.

“If you’re going to hold me like that all night, at least buy me dinner, Miya,” Kiyoomi murmurs, unwilling to break the peace of the moment. There’s a smile in his voice, awash with a lightly teasing tone (Kiyoomi can’t help himself), tugging at the corners of his lips. Kiyoomi pulls the blanket over his mouth to hide his morning breath and the weight of his words.

“For the thousandth time, just call me Atsumu,” the man in question replies, and Kiyoomi goes hot and cold at the same time, in a little bit of a freefall at the reveal of Atsumu’s morning voice.

Kiyoomi blames his sudden shiver on the non-existent morning chill, snuggling back into Atsumu, who automatically opens his arms for Kiyoomi. How sweet and indulging of him. He hides his face in Atsumu’s chest, and Kiyoomi half-heartedly wants to blame the morning chill again as he treasures the warmth they create together, but he’s never been one to beat around the bush, not for very long, anyway. He likes it. It feels good here.

“Are you emotionally prepared to hear me call you by your first name, though?” Kiyoomi replies, face still _smooshed_ against Atsumu’s chest, and he feels rather than hears Atsumu’s breath hitch.

“The answer to that is probably no,” Atsumu says, too enchanted by the man in his arms to give him anything that isn’t the truth. “But dinner is good. Let’s go to dinner, Omi-Omi. Let’s make it romantic.”

 _Yes, please, anything, as long as it’s with you_. Honestly, it’s _been_ a very resolute yes for a while now, but it’s really warm here in Atsumu’s embrace, and they don’t have practice today. It won’t hurt to sleep in just a little longer.

“Dinner later, Miya. Cuddle now.” Kiyoomi drapes one arm over Atsumu’s side, fingers lazily finding purchase in the back of his shirt.

How could Atsumu say no to that? “Okay, Omi-Omi. Goodnight.”

Kiyoomi smiles, halfway adrift. “G’night, Atsumu.”

They sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> oh kiyoomi, you killed him. you knew he wasn't emotionally prepared to hear you call him that and you killed him
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! They deserve to be soft together and with each other. I am also here to push my "gently pining Kiyoomi" agenda. Kiyoomi is precious. They are both so very sweet when it comes to being in love. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Remember to drink water!
> 
> Support me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ASPHODELLAE)!


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